Thank God all of that awful college football is over. It was really stressing out the kindergartener in this house. Garrett is of a peaceful, non-warring species, like his mother. To see two teams clashing violently on the gridiron was really giving him some serious anxiety. He's an odd little bird. He's always loved wrestling and playing "tackle daddy" in the backyard, but seeing the real thing on tv is different, I guess. It's just too much conflict and barbarity for him to take in.
These three boys are no stranger to the fine art of tackling, let me tell you. When we play football together - it's usually Bodie and me against the two bigger boys - and it gets pretty rough. When I get the ball, Gavin and Garrett each grab a leg to try to take me down, then Bodie (my faithful teammate) punches me in the pills then jumps on my head as I double over in pain. It's a lot of fun.
I noticed Garrett's football angst earlier this year when we were watching the Cornhusker vs. Wisconsin Badger game. He was sitting on the couch with a look of serious discomfort on his face, a look similar to a squeamish person watching a live surgery. I asked him what was wrong, he said simply "I don't like all that tackling the Huskers are doing." I told him it's just part of the game, it's fun for them - just like when we play in the backyard. "They don't look like they're having fun at all," he replied solemnly.
We watched on for awhile and I tried to acquaint him with the more refined intricacies of the game: the passing, kicking, strategy, the referees (who are on the field, of course, to make sure everyone is having fun and following the rules). He marinated on this new information for awhile, then came out with this bombshell: "Well dad, I've changed my mind about something. When I grow up I want to be an astronaut and a football player." I cheered for this loudly and obnoxiously "WOOHOO! That's my BOY!!" He stops me with sober look and a little 5 year old hand on my knee. "BUT, I'm going to play for the Wisconsin Badgers so I can stop the Huskers from doing all that naughty tackling." Being a lifelong Cornhusker fan, this is a real kick in the gut. I wept openly, just as loudly and obnoxiously as before, hands over my face. Garrett observed this reaction for a moment, thoughtfully. Then with a hug he added again quietly, "Don't worry dad, I won't be THAT good… only when I play against Gavin. If he is on the other team, I will really tackle him down."
These are inquisitive times. Bodie is in that mode where almost everything that he says comes in the form of a question. His questions demand answers immediately, or the line of interrogation will continue until the right answers are found. He's like a mini Sherlock Holmes, tireless in his pursuit of the truth.
Why do toddlers ask so many questions? Easy: they don't know very much! You have to be patient and answer their questions, even if it's the same set of questions day in and day out. Their little brains are just learning how the world works, and repetitive questions help drive home those basic concepts. I also think it's comforting to them to hear the same answers all of the time, like a security blanket for their curious little minds.
As parents, we forget about how it feels to be a new little person in the world, where everything is possible, parents are like Gods who know everything, and magic is real.
These "why" questions can also just be a test - as in a test of your patience. Observe this tete-a-tete: "Daddy, I need ice cream please." "No." "Why?" "We don't have ice cream." "Why?" "We ate it all." "Why?" "It was yummy." "Why?" "Because it's ICECREAM." etcetera, etcetera….you get the point. The barrage of questions almost always comes right when I'm in the middle of doing something important, and it's a frustrating distraction. I try my best to be patient with Bodie - the last thing I want is for him to stop asking me questions!
Bodie is the most even tempered 2 year old, at least when contrasted to the other two mood swinging kids in the house. He's got this uncanny ability to take things in stride, and just go with the flow. The other day at the swimming pool, his Earth ball disappeared, and Bodie didn't throw the slightest fit. He just kept looking for it everywhere, and now and then he'd say "We can find it Daddy." My other 2 boys would have been frantic with distress. We never did find the ball, by the way. He decided it would be easier to find one at Target later on. "We can go to Target after dis," he announced. He adjusted his goggles, then continued his romp in the shallow end.
Bodie has picked up on some of his older brothers' emotional outbursts, however. It's just learning by osmosis. Actually, their eruptions haven't been so bad lately, since we started the Feingold diet and cut out the food dyes. It really works! Food dyes are pure evil, it turns out. Do your own research.
Anyway, Garrett is especially funny when he's mad, like a furious little Donald Duck. Last weekend Garrett was super tired, crabby, and ready for bed. Out of the blue, Gavin scared him from behind with a loud noisemaker he got from a party. Garrett spun around and went off like a pack of firecrackers on Gavin. "I'm wilwy, wilwy, wilwy, wilwy ANGWY at you, GAVIN! UHHH!" Poor kid. I know the feeling. I get crabby too when I'm tired.
When Bodie gets mad at me for something like helping him get undressed for the bath, he only yells a little bit. He'll say "I wanna do it, Daddy! I WANNA DO IT" To which I'll calmly respond "Are you mad at dad?" mainly because I love his response of late, which is "I'm not mad, I'm just ANGWY!!"
Really though, Bodie is just content to glide through life with a mischievous smirk on his face most of the time. His terrible two tantrums are few and far between - I hope I'm not jinxing it - but he almost always does what he's told the first time I tell him. Now, what kind of two year old is this? It's really mind boggling. I'll say "Boys, get your shoes on and climb in the Jeep." And 3 minutes later, Bodie will be standing by the Jeep with shoes in hand (since he struggles to put them on). Gavin and Garrett will most likely be ignoring my directive until they hear me say "Goodbye guys, we are leaving."
Getting him to eat is a different story, however. He thinks everything is yucky, except for french fries and chicken nuggets. I don't know how he survives, since we don't make his food of choice more than once or twice a week. We don't give in to his demands. We want our kids to enjoy all types of food. Sara is an incredible cook, and she'll be darned if she's going to waste her talents with frozen nuggets. Bodie usually eats a good breakfast, at least, mainly because he's famished from his rejection of the previous night's fare. Hopefully he'll get past this picky stage like his brothers did, without it stunting his growth! (Can that really happen?)
